


Gross

by Manya_Kami



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: He's mentioned though, M!Kamui/Corrin, M/M, OOCness, This doesn't really mean anything, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust, it's just meant to be atmospheric, kinda surreal, pretty weird, takumi-centric, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 13:52:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13928451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manya_Kami/pseuds/Manya_Kami
Summary: Oh, what a sad, sad fool I am.[Takumi and Leo's relationship exists between dreams and reality]





	Gross

**Author's Note:**

> The top line of the summary is a nod to Chapter 1 of cherrybubblegum's 'Formalities.'
> 
> The 'pretentious asshole' line is a nod to Chapter 2 of copperjellyroll's 'A Marriage of Equals.'
> 
> The 'we can be whatever you want' line is a nod to Chapter 3 of Cheshire's 'His skin under my hand.'
> 
> And of course, the dialogue of Takumi and Leo's first civil meeting at the beginning is based off of the first meeting of Shizuo and Izaya from DuRaRaRa.
> 
> With that, on to the fic.

There isn’t anything special about Leo.

That’s the first observation Takumi makes of the boy, now that they’ve properly acquainted themselves off the battlefield. He’s plain, and a little bit a cold, but that’s to be expected from a Nohrian. They’re all the same, really.

The certainly all look the same. They all dress in that odd, mechanical way of theirs, and they’re all tall and pasty, and they speak their thick language from underneath their tongues. Leo is, of course, no exception to this.

“I’ll be straightforward with you on this, Hoshidan Prince.” He tells Takumi on that meeting, with his arms crossed and his posture rigid. Takumi can’t bring his eyes to look away from Leo’s unattractive Nohrian features (his drooping eyes and his blemished skin, the chalky powder that Nohrian men smear over their already too-light complexion because they think it makes them look _good_ ). “I don’t like you at all.”

Takumi sneers at that, catty and immediately responsive. “Tsk, well that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

Leo’s frayed eyebrows raise at this, almost daring Takumi to challenge him, but the Nohrian youth doesn’t say anything. He clutches his tome tighter in his lanky arms and leaves with his back stiff, shoulders tense.

His irritatingly cool composure and distinctly Nohrian mannerisms piss Takumi off to no end, and he means to run after the other Prince, before something keeps him put, dead in his tracks.

_I would like for the two of you to become close._

That’s what Kamui had said and still Takumi can’t deny his beloved brother whatever he wants, not when he asks Takumi in that way and gently breathes his words against his neck, pulling Takumi closer and tighter to his own warmth.

(Even when Takumi’s subconscious is aware of what Kamui is doing, why he is so easily shucked off of his beloved brother’s back and into the arms of another.)

* * *

 

It works. That night, Kamui is not the invader of Takumi’s dream, but Leo.

Takumi might have it in him to be shameful, embarrassed, to think of someone he’s only met once now, outside of the war in this way, but then, that’s what these dreams are for.

In the perfect patch of time and space that lies between reality and the nonexistent, Leo and Takumi make love.

Perhaps that’s too gentle a description. Perhaps it’s not fitting to describe the cold, crude Nohrian Prince who has never once declared having a taste for Hoshidans, let alone Takumi. But for the time present Leo’s face is merely a temporary replacement for Kamui’s, and that realization is no more apparent to Takumi than in the moment in which the Nohrian Prince first slides into him.

Dream Leo fucks Takumi the same way Dream Kamui fucked him, slow and sure and in a way that oozes in the dream, drips all over until Takumi is coated in sticky shame for loving a Nohrian in that way.

(For loving his brother in that way.)

It’s just as well though, because not once does Leo open those rude and raucous lips of his, and Takumi does better like that. Takumi himself is loud and he comes with a cry, heaving and weeping on the sheets, his back arched into an acute C-shape. He does better like this, when he doesn’t have to be reminded of his dirty grossness by a Nohrian whispering his viscous nothings into the shell of Takumi’s ear.

* * *

 

It’s unsurprisingly difficult to get along with Leo.

He is especially insufferable even for a Nohrian, and Takumi makes it a point to let the other Prince know this every time the come into contact with one other.

“I think,” He tells him explicitly one day when the Nohrian family has come to visit for the sakura season and Kamui has expectedly fucked off to nowhere. Takumi had meant to busy himself at the archery range, of course, and he is understandably angry to find a _mage_ there. “That you’re doing this on _purpose_.”

The blonde Prince is reading something, a scroll written in the delicate dialogue of ancient Hoshido, and he rolls it into a close to side-eye Takumi wearily. “Oh? And what, pray tell, is it that I’m doing on purpose?”

Takumi practically flares. “Y-You-! Dammit! You know, you’re just _asking_ to piss me off!”

“Hmm? And what if I am?”

If Takumi were more of a child than a man, he would've simply chucked his Fuujin Yumi at Leo from there and stormed off in a stomping fit, but he likes to believe he’s more grown up than that.

_I would like for the two of you to become close_ , Kamui had said.

Takumi grips his Yumi tight and resists pounding the soles of his shoes into the Earth as he walks away from Leo, who has by now returned to reading his scroll.

_Sorry brother, I don't think that’s gonna happen._

* * *

 

That night they’re together again, in one of the great halls where meeting are held during the day, and the irony of that is not lost on Takumi. This is the place where their battles have been held as of late, arguing over a table with all of Hoshido’s great nobles watching and Kamui’s crooked smile kiltered off his face, seated at the head.

_Such awesome chemistry the two of you have_ , he’d told them once as he exited, with a wry and sly look in his eye that made Takumi shiver.

Leo had grit his teeth at that but said nothing, of course he did, Leo always simply says _nothing_ and it agitates Takumi to no end.

It must be something about being Nohrian.

Even as he lays Takumi on his back against the table and grabs his legs he says nothing, but Takumi is drunk on the moment and the feeling of long, smooth fingers kneading gently into his thighs. There is nothing to agitate him here.

He is limp and pliant as Leo fits his cock between his thighs and fucks through them, and maybe he has a mind to find this unbefitting of a prideful Prince such as himself, but the moment is wet and good and so rich with pleasure that Takumi doesn’t care.

Leo’s pace become aggressive and quick and the hands and the dick on his thighs just press in harder, faster, more and more dangerous until he comes onto Takumi’s arching belly and then Takumi comes himself, but the Hoshidan Prince can’t beat the instinct that drives him to call out the name of his beloved elder brother and shame bubbles from his gut at the realization of what he’d done.

The man lying above him removes his limp dick from between Takumi’s messy thighs and drops his legs. He leans forward to breathe against Takumi’s neck, and he is not the heavenly visage of wild white hair and bloody carmine irises and a dastardly knowing smirk.

Leo’s breath is hot and heavy against Takumi’s ear when he whispers, “I think you’ve got the wrong Nohrian.”

* * *

 

Takumi has learned, over the years of practicing and attempting and trying and _failing_ listlessly to become talented at it, that he is none too quick with a sword.

Understandable, then, that he became an archer.

But it’s entirely unfair that Leo has any remote talent in the field at all, the _cavalrous mage_ he is!

Takumi resists to the urge to shout a loud and proud, _Fuck you, Nohrian scum!_ to his sparring partner as he takes a breather to shuck off his shirt and tie his hair into a messy topknot to get the heat off his back.

Even in this Leo is unbelievable, leaving his long, black, cotton clothes on beneath the shimmer of the Hoshidan summer sun and still not sweating even a drop, despite the fact that Takumi’d already soaked through the pits of his starch shirt and his haori were riding up uncomfortably.

“You jackass!” He finally lets loose, and Leo sets the traveling canteen he’d been drinking out of back on the bench so that he can scrutinize Takumi through the sun’s hazy rays.

“Oh?” Leo calls back, and his voice cracks. Takumi can see him on the other side of the field, wiping the subtle sweat from his brow. “What’ve I done this time?”

The sun is blinding and beating when Takumi picks his practice sword back up to swing it in an experimental arc. “You-! Why the hell aren’t you hot?!”

Wasn’t the sun supposed to be frightfully elusive in Nohr?!

Leo smirks at him from the either side of the field and Takumi almost misses in the sun’s swimming waves. He says nothing, but picks his sword back up to ready his stance, a single dark smear across the whitewashed brightness of the late Hoshidan summer.

_I was under the impression you found him incredibly attractive, little brother._

Kamui’s voice in Takumi’s head isn’t real, just a spot of dream that had yet to be cleaned away, but it sounded through the dry air with the same loudness of the cicadas’ summer call.

* * *

 

It’s too hot for sex indoors, with the way the heat seeps and warps through the mosquito mesh and swims within its confines. Takumi has to deliberately grab Leo by the wrist to bring him outside, because honestly, that man wouldn’t know heat if it's knocked him upside the head.

They’ve found themselves out in the gardens with Takumi’s back braced against a cherry tree and Leo working between his legs. He’s completely nude but that’s okay, because the heat clings to his own skin more forgivingly than it would to his clothing, and the mosquitos don’t pose any sort of real threat in Takumi’s dream world.

“My, my. You really are a lewd one, aren’t you, Hoshidan Prince.” Leo says against his soft inner thigh, and the way Takumi feels Leo’s lips shift and mold to shape the words has him keening from above. “Tell me, are all Hoshidans like this?”

Talking during sex is something still relatively new, something that Leo’s picked up that he had the mind for only within their last two or so trysts. Takumi doesn’t like it, it makes him feel dirty and gross, but then, this is a dream, no? And what better time to be dirty and gross than when one is within the safe confines of their own mind?

Leo’s warm, wet tongue traces a line from Takumi’s tight balls to the ring of his hole, and the Hoshidan can’t help back work his fingers even deeper into Leo’s hair, pushing and prodding at the silky blonde strands there.

“Really, not even a common whore of Cheve would want to be seen acting this way,” He breathes in small, warm puffs against Takumi’s entrance, and it feels so entrancing that he can’t even bring himself to remark on the shame in that comment. “...Do _you_ , Hoshidan Prince?”

Leo doesn’t wait for an answer before he begins to fuck Takumi with his tongue with real determination, thrusting in and out with a kind of aggression that Takumi was almost sure wasn't fit for his dreams.

He pulls away just before Takumi comes, and moves to stand aside so that he can watch the Hoshidan boy in his moment of pure existential bliss, back arched and chestnut hair fanning out, eyes screwed tight and cheeks blossoming in the way that very cherry tree would come next spring.

Any and all traces of fondness have faded from Leo’s hooded eyes and when Takumi glances into them with his own he almost misses when Leo starts talking again. “I would certainly hope you don’t.” He tells him.

“It’s almost _gross_.”

* * *

 

“I think you’ve had just a tad too much to drink, Hoshidan Prince.” Leo tells him one night, the last night that he will be staying in Hoshido before he and his family fuck off back to Nohr (and good riddance, this way Takumi can place his focus back on important things, such as his beloved brother). The two of them are hauled up in Takumi’s own room, stranded there by the late summer storm raging outside.

Leo had found it in him that he wished to try Hoshidan sake, and while in the end he held up his liquor quite well, Takumi was a rather different story.

“Well,” He begins, catty and nasal and slurring with a slipper-slick tongue coated in rice wine. “You know what I think? I think you’re a _pretentious asshole_ , you Nohrian.”

He attempts to stand from his spot seated on the floor and staggers a bit. The sake in his eyes makes his vision swim. “You, you Nohrian scumbag, who, who-! Why the hell’re you even try’na drink sake anyway? You think if you drink ‘nuff rice and you read ‘nuff scrolls you can just--I don't know--become a Hoshidan?! You can make me like you?!” Takumi can’t tell if he’s angry or if he’s sad or if he’s just venting at this point, but reality starts to blur when he tips forward and hollers; “You can’t just become a part of someone’s life like that!”

“Oh? Corrin’s seemed to have done it well enough.”

Takumi’s eyes grow wide and he catches himself on his breathing. He chokes, flabbergasted. “Don’t’chu call him that-!”

Leo’s lips quirk upwards, and there’s a smirk residing there that’s all too familiar. “Why not? It’s what he prefers, you know. There is nothing so special about yourself that should grant you access to such a special little nickname--”

“S-shut up!” Takumi’s flush flares to life. When did this turn into some kind of personal attack?

“But perhaps you think there is, is that it? Because you love him, don’t you?”

Time freezes, right then and there.

Takumi realizes, in that moment, that this is a dream. It makes sense, then, as to why Leo stands so close to him inside his own room, and taunts him in that way. It makes sense, Takumi’d never been one to handle alcohol well and he would’ve slipping asleep before he’d even had the _chance_ to make a fool of himself.

“I…” He begins, settling back down on the floor and letting the warm swimminess of the dream wash over him. “I do. And I…” His cheeks flair, even here Leo has the gall to scrutinize him. “…think… I like you too.”

“ _Oh?_ ”

Takumi’s eyes flicker back up to the Nohrian and he finds that Leo’s cheeks have flushed, and he’s set his cup of back down on the floor. He’s a bit wobbly in his movements; perhaps Leo isn’t as good a drinker as Takumi’d thought.

He reaches out to run his fingers through the Takumi’s hair, which had fallen out of its ribbons some moment before. “What is it you like about me, then?”

“D-Don’t make me say it…” Takumi whines, leaning into Leo’s touch and flushing furiously. This is shameful, and he’s acutely aware of that fact, but that is, after all, just another dream. It’s perfectly alright to do things you're ashamed of within a dream.

“It’s because I remind you of him, isn’t it?” Leo pushes Takumi down so his back is pressed against the floor and he breathes again, so hot against his pinkened nick, “And you still haven't let him go.”

Leo’s fingers are long and smooth and deft. They’re a mage’s fingers, trained for pulling and weaving magic from between the fibers of time pages and out into the open air, and they’re just as good in the way the make quick work of Takumi’s outfit, pulling at tassels and trinkets until all that remains are his smallclothes.

He is writhing beneath the Nohrain, exposed, vulnerable. It’s humiliating. But humiliation is okay, here.

“You could never stand the thought of loving your own brother, could you?” The Nohrian says, one hand grabbing Takumi’s dick through his smallclothes and the other trading a single finger even further back, to poke and prod at his hole through the fabric’s harsh material. “But I’m the next best thing. We have the same mannerisms, the same behavior, that Corrin and I. And I’m much easier obtained, aren’t I?” The pace of his pumps to Takumi’s cock quickens and his breath is so hot, so heavy against Takumi’s neck when he whispers, “After all, you and I have such _awesome chemistry_ , don’t we?”

That’s it, that’s the thing, and hearing his beloved Kamui’s words through Leo’s lips sends him clean over the edge, cumming sticky and slick into his smallclothes.

The embarrassment that follows is almost as sticky.

But none of that matters in this dreamy haze, and Dream Leo doesn’t give him much time to even pretend that it matters, because he yanks off Takumi’s remaining garments and lifts his legs up and over his shoulders, one hand still kneading at the supple skin of his thighs.

“Or perhaps,” His fingers are only as slick as the cum that’d soaked through the fabric had been when he first breeches Takumi, and it burns almost as much as his words. “You’re trying to make him jealous. Is that it?”

He doesn’t spend enough time preparing Takumi, and it hurts like all hell when he finally shoves his goddamn fuckstick inside, rough and callous and Nohrian in all things he does. It hurts, but not too much, because the hurting only exists within the dream.

“Make us appear close, closer than he’d ever wanted us to be,” Keo heaves in between grunts as he thrusts haphazardly into Takumi’s tight heat. “Makes us look like some sort of--uhn--couple?”

Takumi’s back arches as Leo repeatedly slams against that tiny button so deep within him, slamming and slamming, and it’s so good and comfortable and hot and wet and--ahn, he’s so hard so quickly again, and he’s so damn close to coming--

“Is that what you--er--want, h-huh?” Leo’s getting so close too, Takumi can hear it in his voice and feel it in the way his cock thickens within him. “H-huh? What is it, H-Hoshidan Prince?” He’s so damn _close_ , they both are, “What is it you want us to be?!”

And then he comes, hot and sticky and downright _gross_ into Takumi’s fucking ass, and he’s left heaving and panting as Takumi still tries to work himself to his own climax. He should look pleased, should look satisfied, but he’s not, he looks genuinely angry and frustrated with Takumi--why--?

“W-We can be--” Takumi’s almost there, right at the top of the mountain. “w-whatever you want-!”

“Then I want us to be enemies.”

The dream cracks.

“W-Wha…?”

Violently.

“I was never trying to make you like me. If you’ll remember, it was I who expressed my distaste for you upon our first civil meeting.”

It shatters, and falls away.

“We’ve used each other to the fullest, I think. We’re done now.” Leo pulls out, too early, too soon, too empty--Takumi never got his climax--what…?

The Nohrain collects the few clothes he’d stripped from their scattered positions around the room, and makes to leave. “This was all one big ploy of Corrin’s, you know. To get us off his back. And unlike you, I’m no pathetic _fool_ who’s content with going along to anything his brother sets him up for.”

Leo leaves. And shuts the door.

The dream is over, now.

And behind the curtain lies Takumi, naked and abandoned in his own room with Leo’s cum dripping down the inside of his shame-sticky thighs and the gravity of his situation threatening to crush him.

He’d crossed the border, somewhere along the line. He’d strayed too close to the edge. And now here was, on the other side of the dream.

Or perhaps that’s where he’d been the whole time.

 

 


End file.
